Gratification
01 / 01
It is dark; all around me is dark. I hold my hand before my eyes, but I see nothing. Had I even moved my hand? My arm? How can I know this if my perception is so painfully skewed by the blackness? I turn my head and I am met with more of the same pitch black; in every direction, there is nothing but pitch black, engulfing my being and swallowing my soul, preparing my sanity as a tasty dessert.
I whimper.
I cry.
I scream out.
No one is there to listen, no one to hear. Within the cavity of my chest, my heart thuds and pounds, launching my anxiety sky-high. My every fiber aches and burns, as if I have just been set aflame. Shame pools in my gut as the clammy feeling takes over; my toes curl and my fingers drive their nails into my palms.
I feel good; intensely so. Sensations at my weakest points push the pleasure higher than the shame and my every tendon tenses. I throw my head back, releasing a moan to the darkness. It echoes, reverberating and sounding in my ears again and again. I am mortified, but only inwardly. The absolute bliss is too overpowering, refilling the bits of my form missing by fault of the darkness.
With another cry of gratification, my hips buck up. The pleasurable feelings skyrocket and reach their peak. I gnash my teeth and ride out the last of the sensations, slowly relaxing as the intensity fades.
When I open my eyes, the moon meets my gaze. Its face smiles at me from behind a head of tousled, dark hair. Lips trail up the vein in my neck, meeting the hallow of my jaw before they eventually find their way to my mouth. I do not hesitate to return to the sound kiss.
“The years have been long,” I murmur when the kiss is broken and we deflate against the sheets, sweat-slicked and barren of any sort of clothing. “Too long.”
You touch the sharp edges of my hipbones, the bumps of my stomach and rest your large palm over my chest, fingers tapping against my collar in sync with my relaxing heart. In the aftermath of our actions, I lie in the light; no longer am I blinded by the darkness and no longer do I twist and squirm within it. The dark, dirty secret that lay tangled with the skeletons has been released, flying off like a liberated raven to scream its meaning to the world.
Am I scared?
Yes.
Terrified.
But the light is so pure, so clean and so inviting. I cannot bear to call for my raven’s return and attempt to mask this beautiful slip up in a shroud of shams. My concerns have drifted, shying away from the opened Pandora’s Box and to the temptress of slumber. Curled in my lover’s arms, my mind is at rest; dealing with the wake of destruction will come later, perhaps morning. Now, I sleep and wait for the tumult to come.
I whimper.
I cry.
I scream out.
No one is there to listen, no one to hear. Within the cavity of my chest, my heart thuds and pounds, launching my anxiety sky-high. My every fiber aches and burns, as if I have just been set aflame. Shame pools in my gut as the clammy feeling takes over; my toes curl and my fingers drive their nails into my palms.
I feel good; intensely so. Sensations at my weakest points push the pleasure higher than the shame and my every tendon tenses. I throw my head back, releasing a moan to the darkness. It echoes, reverberating and sounding in my ears again and again. I am mortified, but only inwardly. The absolute bliss is too overpowering, refilling the bits of my form missing by fault of the darkness.
With another cry of gratification, my hips buck up. The pleasurable feelings skyrocket and reach their peak. I gnash my teeth and ride out the last of the sensations, slowly relaxing as the intensity fades.
When I open my eyes, the moon meets my gaze. Its face smiles at me from behind a head of tousled, dark hair. Lips trail up the vein in my neck, meeting the hallow of my jaw before they eventually find their way to my mouth. I do not hesitate to return to the sound kiss.
“The years have been long,” I murmur when the kiss is broken and we deflate against the sheets, sweat-slicked and barren of any sort of clothing. “Too long.”
You touch the sharp edges of my hipbones, the bumps of my stomach and rest your large palm over my chest, fingers tapping against my collar in sync with my relaxing heart. In the aftermath of our actions, I lie in the light; no longer am I blinded by the darkness and no longer do I twist and squirm within it. The dark, dirty secret that lay tangled with the skeletons has been released, flying off like a liberated raven to scream its meaning to the world.
Am I scared?
Yes.
Terrified.
But the light is so pure, so clean and so inviting. I cannot bear to call for my raven’s return and attempt to mask this beautiful slip up in a shroud of shams. My concerns have drifted, shying away from the opened Pandora’s Box and to the temptress of slumber. Curled in my lover’s arms, my mind is at rest; dealing with the wake of destruction will come later, perhaps morning. Now, I sleep and wait for the tumult to come.
♠ ♠ ♠
fin.